


communications debrief

by jlennyb



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: F/M, Post-Finale, Wolf 359 spoilers, doug is surprisingly wise considering the circumstances, everyone needs to talk about their feelings, just hanging out on the urania, kepcobi if you squint, minlace if you squint - Freeform, please let them go home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlennyb/pseuds/jlennyb
Summary: the former communications officer of the Hephaestus still has some listening to do.
Relationships: Dominik Koudelka/Renée Minkowski, Doug Eiffel & Daniel Jacobi, Doug Eiffel & Hera, Doug Eiffel & Isabel Lovelace, Doug Eiffel & Miranda Pryce, Doug Eiffel & Renée Minkowski, Doug Eiffel/Hera, Isabel Lovelace & Renée Minkowski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	communications debrief

The journey home was a sort of liminal space: it was certainly all over, they knew that, but they weren’t quite back yet. Onboard was quiet, most of the time, everyone lost in their personal contemplation. There was a bit of tension in the anticipation of going home and finding more pieces to pick up. And yet, having the time to simply breathe and not be in immediate, horrible danger, was extremely comforting. 

Isabel was on the flight deck with Doug, just sort of passing the time and keeping an eye on things. The  _ Urania _ did not have the same tendencies to constantly fall apart as the late  _ Hephaestus.  _

“You know, I just realized--” Isabel said at last. 

“What’s that?”

“Our situations are kinda… opposite.” She saw his face, and elaborated. “Well, I’ve got all of the original Captain Lovelace’s memories, but this isn’t her body. While you’ve got your body, and none of… yeah.”

Doug gave a sort of laugh. “Sort of a weird fate-thing, then, that we’re both here.”

Isabel was quiet for a moment. “I should probably be more excited to go home.”

“I take it that means you’re not?”

“It’s just… I was on that station for so long. Even before I fell into the star and came back like this,” she gestured to herself, “I had changed so much as a person. The Isabel Lovelace who left Earth isn’t the one who died up there, and she certainly isn’t the one coming home.”

“Well, I think I can relate to what you’re dealing with, then.” said Doug, grave. 

Isabel looked at him floating next to her, his gaze drifting somewhere into the middle distance. Her trouble seemed a little obsolete compared to a man who had given up his identity to save the world. Was it really so bad, then, that she had changed so much to survive? 

“I know that… I am me. Whatever it means to be me, right now.” she said. “But all I’ve known is fighting to live. I’m not sure I know how to move on.”

“What’s important to you?” Doug asked. 

“All of you, of course.” Isabel said, thinking. “I’m going to make sure Goddard gets what they deserve after the hell they put us through.” She looked down. “And for killing so many good people.”

“Justice, then?” Doug nodded. “The station may have fallen into the star, but you’re still one of the commanding officers. I think advocating for the crew, those that survived and those that didn’t, is a noble cause for a captain.”

Isabel clenched her fists as the memories of her former crew flooded back into her mind. “The world, or at least their loved ones, need to know the truth.” she said grimly. The thought of having to tell their families or friends how her crew had died made her sick to her stomach, but not as much as the thought that the reality of what had happened could have been lost out in the black for eternity. 

“Helps to talk it through, huh?” said Doug, breaking the silence again.

She looked at him, and in his eyes saw another man: someone with the same job and a similar tendency to get on her nerves, but a man who she would forever call her friend. The  _ Hephaestus  _ mission truly had the finest communications officers a captain could ask for. She swallowed; now was not the time to cry. Not until they were home. Not until the work was done.

“Isabel?” Doug asked quietly, seeing her stare.

She smiled, a little forced, but there was some true hope behind it. “Thank you, Doug. I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but I’m so glad you understand.”

“Seems like I’m one of the lucky ones.” 

“I don’t think any of us are that lucky, considering.”

“Lucky to have each other, then.”

Isabel nodded. “Now that it’s over.”

Doug shook his head. “Nah. It’s the beginning.”

* * *

The way the rest of the crew acted around her, Doug knew that at one point he was probably terrified of one Miranda Pryce. Of course, despite everyone’s slight protests, he found himself conversing with the strange woman reasonably often. After all, they really had quite a bit in common.

“I just can’t stop thinking… what kind of people were we to do this to each other?” Doug asked Miranda.

Miranda made a strange expression. The way she moved her face and body was always a little odd, as if she wasn’t quite used to the fact that a good portion of her body wasn’t quite human. 

“Desperate people, I suppose.” she said, still pondering. “Hera… she told me everything. What I did to her, what I did to you, what you both did to stop me. That’s all I really understand of what happened on that station: a lot of extreme measures.”

“You hear it when they talk, how exhausted they all are.” said Doug. “So maybe we did everyone a favor, by ending it all. I still don’t quite understand what it was all about, but… It sure was important.” He took a long breath. “They don’t really like me talking to you, you know.”

“I know.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you do, though. You wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for me.”

“No.” Doug said quickly, and Miranda looked surprised. “No, we’re on the same level, now. Neither of us can really fathom how we got to the point of sharing devastating amnesia, so we’re totally even.”

“That sounds like forgiveness.”

“For who you are now, not who you were.” He shrugged. “I’m in a unique position to understand the separation.” 

Miranda sighed. “Do you think Hera will forgive me?”

Doug was quiet, thinking. “I can’t say.” he replied after a moment. “Certainly not without some time. Like me, I don’t think she can forgive the person you were after what Dr. Pryce did. But I don’t think that means you can’t help her, or help all of us deal with whatever happens when we get back to Earth.”

“Do you think you can become as good of a man as they say you were?”

“I want to think so. I know I will; if these are the people that made me a good man, then I don’t see why they can’t help me do it again.”

“If you can become the man you were, then what if I become cruel again?” she asked, dark. 

“You could...” Doug started. “Just as much as I could become the lazy, disrespectful, self-serving person I heard on those recordings. But not if you make the choice right now to take full advantage of your second chance. I mean, clearly, you’re a genius. You must have incredible potential for great things… use that to help right the wrongs you helped to create.”

“You’re already a kind person, Doug.” Miranda said with a slight smile. “I hope that our second chance is worth losing so much of who we were.”

* * *

Daniel Jacobi tried to keep busy. Part of him wished that the  _ Urania _ was a little less state-of-the-art, so he would actually have more to do. At this point, he was repairing things before they were even broken, which Minkowski honestly couldn’t believe was the reality they were living in after years aboard a constantly breaking station. It was after he had taken apart and reassembled a few auxiliary control panels that he started to realize he probably needed to talk to someone.

That being said, he didn’t really care to spill his guts to any of the people who had tried to kill him, or that he had tried to kill. But the spectres of his dead colleagues that hung in the back of his mind were proving to be poor conversation partners, at least in regards to what he needed at this point. Thus, Jacobi found himself talking to the man who had been, and still somewhat was, Doug Eiffel. 

“Could you help me with some engineering stuff?” he asked.

Doug looked surprised. “You know I’m not really much use with --”

“Don’t worry about it, just come on.” Daniel said, a little frustrated. 

“Alright, you don’t have to drag me.” said Doug with a bit of a laugh. 

Daniel didn’t say much until they had moved to a quiet part of the ship where he was pretty sure neither Lovelace nor Minkowski would run into him trying to sort out his problems. 

“Okay, this isn’t actually about repairs or anything.” he admitted. “I just really need to talk.”

Doug made a face. “Oh. Is it me?”

“No, of course it’s not you. It’s…” Daniel sighed, exasperated. “If you remembered anything about me you’d know that the SI-5 unit seems to pride itself on compartmentalizing. I could put aside my feelings for the sake of my job, but…”

“Now you don’t have much of a job anymore.”

“Exactly.” Daniel looked away, somewhat embarrassed that he had gotten to the point of asking for help from  _ Doug Eiffel _ of all people. “I just need someone to listen.” (He told the ghosts in his peripheral to shut up.)

“I don’t really understand why you’re asking me. I don’t really know you.”

“That’s the point, Doug.” He sighed. “I’ve spent a lot of time doing horrible things for horrible people. And right now, you’re not biased against me, or them.”

“If anything, I’m biased towards you. Isabel said we wouldn't have made it to the  _ Urania _ without your help.”

Daniel smirked. “Yeah, I suppose I am pretty great.” He instantly hated the way he said it. It was the same mask he threw in front of his face constantly, and here he was, trying very genuinely to let down his guard a bit. Old habits die hard. Slowly, his face fell again.

Doug watched him crumple, but didn’t press. Just waited for Jacobi to find his words.

“I don’t understand why I’m the one who made it out.” Daniel said quietly. “The amount of times I was willing to throw my life away if someone asked, and I’m the one who gets to go back home.” 

“What… What happened to them?” Doug asked, gentle. “Isabel and Renée both seemed uncomfortable answering, it seemed they wanted to leave that up to you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Daniel mumbled. He looked back up at Doug. “Dr. Maxwell… Alana, she was my best friend. You might not remember what it feels like to have a best friend, but I hope you do someday, because it’s hard to go through so much hell without one.” He closed his eyes, and let her face smile back. It wasn’t as clear as he would have wanted. “Alana was killed during a mutiny against Colonel Kepler. Minkowski pulled the trigger, but Kepler and I might as well have had our hands on it, too. Dr. Hilbert died that day too, and despite the fact his hands were pretty blood-soaked, he didn’t deserve to go the way I made him go.” 

“Daniel… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s... alright. Minkowski and I worked it out, I think.” He thought for a moment. “Actually, maybe we  _ should  _ address it again, because that was right before everything went  _ really  _ bad.”

“No one should have to grieve while fighting for their life.”

“That’s the trouble now, though.” said Daniel. “I didn’t grieve Alana the way I wished I could have, and now with Kepler gone I -- Let’s just say they’re both demanding a lot of my attention.”

“The Colonel… was he working with Mr. Cutter and Dr. Pryce?”

“Warren Kepler was working for himself. Usually that aligned with doing what Mr. Cutter told him to do so he could keep his power. But I’d be lying if I said there was ever a moment where I knew what was going on in that man’s head.” He clenched his fists, digging what remained of his ragged fingernails into his palms. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t just help us, at the end. I begged him to find some human part of his heart but he just… said goodbye. How’s that for closure?”

“Did you look for --”

“Yeah.” Daniel looked distant. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Maybe you did convince him.” encouraged Doug. “If he was so hard to read, as you said, maybe he kept it that way so he could help you without the Goddard people knowing.”

Daniel laughed, cold. “Wouldn’t that be something? Warren Kepler tries one last-ditch effort to redeem himself, but with too much pride to tell anyone ahead of time, just in case he fails. I thought he trusted me, you know. And still… he never would tell me a thing.”

Doug looked really curious at this point. “He really hurt you, huh? How could you be so loyal to him?”

“Remember the compartmentalizing thing I mentioned? That, and he gave me a purpose.” Daniel began to fidget with his hands. “Warren, he… he let me have a job doing the awful, destructive things that I’m just so good at. For better or for worse, I probably survived all this because of all the times he forced me to learn how to do just that.” He let out another one of those cold, uncomfortable laughs. “We all need validation, right? Even if it’s from particularly unhealthy sources.”

“Well-”

“Don’t answer that.” He took another long moment. “When I met Warren Kepler, I was trying my best to develop a serious alcohol problem. I think you’ll agree I shouldn’t reprise that endeavor in hopes I’ll find a new massive ego to attach myself to.”

“I think I can understand a little bit.” Doug said. “Granted, we both have pretty different perspectives on our past life experience right now. But what I do know is that we both want to figure out how to move forward from this. Become better, stronger, happier…”

“Define ourselves in new ways.” Daniel added quietly.

“Just like that.” Doug agreed. “I don’t have an answer for this, but do you think Kepler really cared about you?”

Daniel sort of stared for a moment as the presence on the edge of his mind flickered between two different reflections of one very complicated man. “Part of him did.” he sighed at last. “I can’t say if it was a part of himself he liked very much…” He went very quiet. “But I liked that part of him.”

Doug nodded, not pressing any further. “Does that help?” he asked after Jacobi was quiet for a while.

Daniel offered a hand. “A few times I thought we’d be good friends if I hadn’t been actively trying to make your life miserable. Despite your… circumstances, I think we should still give that a try.” 

A smile warming his face, Doug took the offered hand. “I’d like that. Here’s to Doug and Daniel, finding ourselves again.”

* * *

For the first couple of days of the trip on the  _ Urania _ , Renée Minkowski waited for the next disaster to strike. It seemed inevitable. The amount of times she had thought she might be getting close to going home, only to have it ripped from her grasp… as if recovering from being shot wasn’t enough to deal with. But eventually, the reality hit. They were really going home.

Of course, accepting that meant dealing with a whole new set of concerns, most of which were entirely impossible to plan for. She’d have to wait, and she hated that. The things, or people, more specifically, that she needed to address, she wasn’t prepared for.

She had mourned Officer Eiffel once before, in the days following the explosion on Lovelace’s shuttle. Hoping to keep the despair from setting in, she had tried to focus on what needed to be done for the rest of them to stay alive. But the guilt of responsibility got the better of her, as it was once again now. Sure, their evil bosses had taken over the station and threatened them in ways they couldn’t have imagined months before, but Eiffel had always been Minkowski’s responsibility. 

She wished the last thing she’d done hadn’t been trying to send him away. It seemed right at the time, but they were all so lucky that the fool of a man came back to save the world.

Now, she couldn’t look him in the eye, and she knew he knew it. He had always known when things were strange between them; and it was no different now. But she couldn’t look at him without thinking of all they had been through: not only the times she had saved his sorry ass, but the times he had saved her, whether it was stopping a murderous Russian doctor or simply trying to talk her down before she did something very, very stupid. 

They had tried to start conversations. It was usually little things, small talk, explanations of important details. But she couldn’t talk about anything personal. If he asked about bigger things that had happened on the station, or how she was really feeling? Renée shut those conversations down quickly.

She knew it was unfair to him, but she couldn’t talk to him without feeling ready to break down.

“Renée,” Isabel had told her gently one day, “You need to talk to him. And I mean really talk.”

“I suppose my heart already broke. It can’t get much worse.” Renée mumbled. 

“It  _ will _ get better.”

“Surprisingly positive, coming from you.”

“It’s what he would want.”

Which was right. Despite the fact he would be hard on himself, he always seemed to believe things would work out. Perhaps it was the stories he loved, knowing the good guys would pull through in the end. 

They had pulled through this time, but at such a cost that she just couldn’t face it. But she knew it had to be her choice. Doug was waiting for her to be ready: another instance of the fact that he was naturally kinder than he ever would have admitted before. 

She broke down, eventually, and crashed into the poor man without warning one day. She hugged him as tightly as she had the day that his emaciated form had returned to the station after she’d thought that explosion had lost him to deep space forever.

“Oh!” Doug exclaimed, quite surprised. “Hey, Renée.”

“Doug,” she said quietly into his shoulder. “I owe you an apology.”

Gently, Doug pulled her away from his body a bit. “I mean, you don’t --”

“I do.” Renée insisted. “The way I’ve been acting is absolutely unfair to you. I should be supporting you, helping you recover, providing you with information and context… But instead I’ve been avoiding having any serious conversation because I’m afraid of how much it’s going to hurt.”

“It’s alright if you need time.” he said, but there was a sadness in it. 

Renée shook her head. “Just because my heart is broken, doesn’t mean it can’t heal. For the sake of who you were, I need to respect who you are. I want to be able to help you find out what that means, like you asked.”

Doug nodded. “Good. Thank you.” But he looked at her, and knew things were still very wrong. “Renée… I don’t think the problem is that you’re afraid of me, but… you’re clearly afraid of something.”

She looked down. “I don’t know if I told you this but… we’re dead. Like, legally. Anyone who knew us on Earth won’t be expecting us to return.”

“Oh.” He took a long breath. “That’s certainly going to make things even more interesting when I have to be reintroduced to my daughter.”

A quiet sob. Renée couldn’t hold it back any longer. “I… I have a husband,” she said, choked. “He didn’t really want me to go, but he wanted to follow my dream and… and he must think he lost me for good.”

“Won’t he be glad to find out you’re not actually dead, then?”

Renée looked up at him, with his face framed by hair that was quite long again, despite losing it once. “It might not feel real. When you’ve accepted someone is gone… it’s hard to reintegrate them back into your life so quickly.” She smiled weakly and gave Doug’s cheek a pat. “But I’m glad we’re all so damn hard to kill. Not for lack of trying on command’s part,” she added with a bit of a wince regarding her own wound. 

“What if he’s moved on?” she asked solemnly.

“You mean, found someone else?”

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t doubt him for a moment to stay faithful while I was on the mission, but all he knows is that I’ve been dead. For a while. Of course I would want him to find happiness again. We all need people to share our burdens with, to find comfort.” She looked down. “I know what that’s like after what we’ve been through.” There was silence for a moment before she picked back up. “Not knowing is what hurts. I can’t imagine how awful it’s been and I… I know I’m going to be a lot to deal with coming home.”

“Why is that?”

“Doug, I… I’ve seen so much misery out here. I’ve fought for my life, I’ve taken others. You can’t go back to normal after that. As much as I want to, I don’t think I’ll ever be… okay.”

“Don’t think so far ahead. A little bit at a time is all we’re really equipped to handle. Me, especially.”

Renée sighed. “That’s true. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I do,” she started, her voice rising again. “I mean, for all of my own misery at least I get to go home, alive, fully human, and with my brain functioning about the same as it did when I left. That’s more than nearly every other person who was on that station can say. So what right do I have to be upset?”

“Every right,” said Doug, gentle. “Especially because it’s not only your own burdens you carry, it’s ours, too. I’ve seen you, every day of this trip: helping Hera figure out what her options for the future could be, talking to me about things that happened that I forgot, being a friend to Isabel after she’s lost so much, making sure Daniel takes care of himself… You’re thinking about everyone else’s pain, too.”

“That’s… pretty insightful, Doug.”

“You said I was the communications officer. I’ve been trying to be a good listener.”

Renée laughed. “There was a time when you hated doing your job.”

“Good thing I don’t any more, then,” he said. “Seems like you really need me to listen.”

She nodded, slow. “You’d think I would have learned by now that things go better for me when I talk to you. All our worst times have been when I didn’t address what bothered me between us and…despite the rocky start you heard in your early logs, you’ve always supported me. I’m really grateful that it hasn't changed.”

“You know…” he started. “Since we get to come back from the dead and all, use it as a chance to start over. Not completely, of course, and luckily you don’t have certain -considerations-,” he tapped the side of his head lightly, “But it’s going to take some time for you to find who you are again. Reintroduce yourself to your husband, just like I have to reintroduce myself to Anne. Give yourself enough space to figure out what you want to do, where you want to be, and who you want to spend your time with.”

Renée made a face. “Who would have thought that losing your memory would make you wise.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, I -”

“I think I’ve talked with you just enough to know that those are the words you would tell yourself if you could,” he cut in. “Always assuring me that I don’t have to figure out who Doug Eiffel is right away. And you’re absolutely right. I think the fact that all the things you’ve seen and done out here are affecting you so much only proves that you need lots of time to figure out who Renée Minkowski is.”

She was quiet for a moment, but smiled. “Maybe I’m worried this new Doug and I are going to get along  _ too _ well!” she said, laughing a little.

“And that’s bad?” Doug asked, bewildered.

She lightly punched him in the arm. “You’re supposed to knock me down a peg! Remind me that I’m boring and overbearing.”

“If that keeps you on your toes,  _ sir, _ I’ll oblige. ” He leaned graciously on the address.

She wrinkled her nose, grinning. “We’ll just see.”

* * *

Doug was different now, and if Hera had a heart, it would have been aching. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to Eiffel asking if she was there (of course she was there, she was  _ always _ there) or simply making casual conversation. Hera knew what it was like to be in one’s own head -- she was there a lot, trying to sort out not only every system of the  _ Urania _ , but also her own thoughts and feelings. She supposed Doug was probably there, too, just trying to get used to everything new and unfamiliar that was happening. 

It just wasn’t fair. Hera had done everything she could to protect him from Dr. Pryce, and still it had to end in this strange half-tragedy. She was proud of him, of course, for how brave and selfless he had become. She wasn’t sure if she could take credit in helping him get there. Still, when things were hard, the little memories of his encouraging words echoed through her head. But these were bittersweet: they were not remembered between them.

Hera had watched him over the last few days, in quiet and contemplative conversation with the other passengers on the ship. He seemed patient with their pain, despite the fact that his own situation could be considered far worse. Supposedly he didn’t have much else to do, besides listen. Recalling how Doug would just talk to her whenever he seemed a little lonely, or bored, or whatever, Hera decided that perhaps his methods would be worth a try.

“Doug?” she asked one day when he was alone. “Are you there?”

Doug looked up in surprise. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“Not busy?”

“Not much to do. Everyone here seems really good at keeping everything under control.”

“Good.” Hera sighed a bit, and tried to shove aside some of the anxious energy that was starting to build up into the corner of her mind. 

“Something up?” he asked.

“No,” she started, “Well, yes. It’s just… we used to talk a lot. Especially when neither of us had very much to do, and I… really miss it.”

“Oh! I had no idea. I sort of figured you were probably really busy with all your crazy computer-stuff.” 

“Well, I guess I am, but not as much as back on the station. Less systems to worry about. And way less disrepair.”

“What things did we talk about?”

What  _ didn’t _ they talk about? Officer Eiffel had been a font of subjects, sharing his opinions on everything from the least favorite books he read in high school to the specifics of a less-than-popular film franchise he happened to have a love for. Whether or not Hera had actually familiarized herself with the aforementioned content prior to Eiffel’s discussion, she always ended up knowing far more than she ever needed to. At least her big brain could remember it.

It hurt so much more that Doug couldn’t.

Hera struggled to come up with an answer that didn’t make things worse. “We talked about things you used to like. Whatever was on your mind.”

Doug chuckled. “I see why things have been a bit strange, then. I’m afraid I don’t have much to go off of.”

“You’re taking this… surprisingly well.”

“I don’t have a choice, Hera. I can’t really mourn losing what I don’t remember I had.”

Hera went quiet, the hurt washing over her again. He didn’t remember but  _ she  _ did. She remembered what he had. She remembered what they had together.

“Hera?” Doug gently inquired after a too-long moment. 

It was so nice just to hear him say her name. She didn’t respond, though. Her thoughts were still racing.

After a while Doug just shook his head. “I wish I knew what to tell you. If there’s something that’s bothering you beyond what I’m already aware of, I--”

“I’m just angry!” Hera cried at last.

“I’m- I’m sorry?” Doug stammered, taken aback.

“Not at you. Just at the whole stupid situation. It isn’t fair that this is what you get after doing something so  _ good. _ I liked who you were, even when you were still stubborn and selfish and insubordinate. I think that’s why you were able to defeat Dr. Pryce. All this time, you would never give up, no matter how much hell you’d put yourself through in the process.” 

“That’s a compliment, I think.”

“Yes.” breathed Hera. “Doug, you’re a brave, stupid man.”

Doug nodded. “What else?”

Hera hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me more about me. The me you knew. It’s better than trying to decide for myself based on the old logs. Renée’s been trying to get me to stop, says it probably isn’t the best course of action…”

“But you’re curious.”

“Of course I’m curious, Hera, I don’t have  _ anything _ beyond the last few days.”

Hera considered sharing some of what she had stored away, some of her favorite moments. But still, it seemed too personal. It wasn’t fair to throw that on him before he had time to start becoming a person again. “I’m not sure what I should tell you. I don’t want to… make you feel like you have to do too much, or grow too fast.”

Doug sighed. “I get the impression we were pretty good friends. Maybe even best friends.”

If Hera could smile, she would have. “Yes. Something like that.”

“I think we both could use a best friend right now, don’t you think?” he said. “So, let’s skip the boring parts and get right to being open with each other. I know that however close we were before, that will take some time to grow again, but that doesn’t mean we have to start all the way back from nothing. Only one of us doesn’t have much to start with.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Whatever is on your mind. If that’s what I could do with you, I’m sure I’m due to spend a lot of time returning the favor. Look, I need people to talk to me if I’m ever going to figure anything out-- not only about myself, but what happened and what to do next. I want to think I can count on you to be my biggest ally in that regard, if what you say about our friendship is true.”

“Doug, I --,” Hera hesitated. “There is something on my mind, something big, and I guess it’s okay to talk about it with you if you’re okay talking about before…”

“I’ve heard a lot of pretty awful things about myself. I think I can handle it.”

“It’s not bad at all! It’s, well… it’s the last thing you said to me.”

Doug’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what --”

“You were trying to tell me something,” Hera continued, even though retelling it positively ached. “But you didn’t get the chance. And the thing is,” her voice wavered a bit, “I think I know what you were going to say.”

“Oh,” said Doug, quiet. Then again after a moment. “Oh, Hera, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Doug thought for a moment. “Let’s not despair too much, okay? It’s a long ride home, and we’ve got lots of time to catch up. And then after that, well… I’m certainly not going to leave my best friend to fend for herself back on Earth.”

“You’re saying… You think things between us could get back to the way they were?”

“No. Not the way they were, exactly. But something similar. Something better.”

“You’ve got a lot of optimism for a man who can’t remember a time anything has gone well for him in his entire life,” said Hera, dry.

“That’s not true at all,” Doug replied. “I made it off that station alive, I’m going back home to see my family, and I’ve got the best people in the universe to help me move forward.”

“How do you know we’re the best?” Hera scoffed.

“Well, I can’t, obviously.” Doug laughed. “But you seem pretty damn great to me.”

“Right back at you,.” Hera said. His laugh was contagious.

They were quiet for a bit, enjoying the bright moment that had just passed.

“Hey, Hera?” Doug asked after a while. “You still there?”

Hera beamed inside. “Always here.”

“Thanks for talking to me. I hope you feel better.”

“I do,” she said, and it felt so honest. Things were clearing up in her mind again, the storm calming, the cruel voice still quiet and tucked away. 

It really was going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> all my love to the Idiots In Space discord server for riling me up enough about this show to Actually Write Fanfiction


End file.
